The Red Light
by perverted-squirrel
Summary: He sees them. When his eyes are upon her face. His hand upon her hand. His lips caressing her skin. Its more than he can stand. Why does his heart tear in two at the mere sight of their happy, smilng faces? Because he is in love with a girl he can't have.


"**Why does my heart cry?****  
****Feelings I can't hide****  
****You're free to leave me,****  
****But just don't deceive me,****  
****And please,****  
****Believe me when I say, I love you**."  
-El Tango de Roxanne

They were doing it again. They were on the dance floor, grinding up against one another for what seemed like the millionth time that night. He was behind her, hands on her slender waist and pulling her closer and closer with each beat. His lips were upon her neck, which was resting upon his shoulder. Harry couldn't take it; this was the last straw. He turned around and went to the buffet table and poured himself a glass of the obviously spiked punch.

"Hey Harry." A familiar feminine voice purred in his ear.

"Not now, Ginny." Harry replied, without turning to see her.

"But I want to dance." He could sense a pout present on her lips as she wrapped her hand around his stomach.

"Go find someone else to dance with."

"But _you're_ my date." Ginny said, poking him in the back with her other hand.

Agitated, Harry turned around and saw the look of longing in her eyes as she licked her lips and removed her arms. He inwardly rolled his eyes, "Ginny, I'm not in the mood. Go find Malfoy or something; you two seem to be getting along well enough."

Ginny looked affronted, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Harry rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his punch. The firewhisky poured down his thought and made his insides burn, a feeling he had become accustomed too the past few weeks. "Don't act so innocent, Gin. I saw you two in the dungeons."

Ginny looked down at the floor guiltily and then met his eyes with hers, "What about you?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" he asked after another swig of firewhisky.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Don't act as though you don't know."

Harry furrowed his brow, "But I don't."

"Hermione, you twit."  


Harry's eyes visibly widened, "W-what about her?"

Ginny shook her head, "You have been staring at her and my brother all night, even Ron would notice. Except for the fact that he is to pre-occupied with her to give a care."

Harry took another swig, much to Ginny's disgust, "What?"

"You're going to kill yourself if you keep drinking like that. And I like my men alive."

"I'm not your man. I only asked you to this dance—"

"You didn't, I did. You were to busy fawning over Hermione to even consider asking anyone else. Not that she noticed; she was too busy snogging my brother to give a rat's arse about you." Ginny said with a smirk.

"Shut up."

"What? It's true. I also think that they shagged last night, with all of the noise coming out of the boy's dormitory."

"_Shut up_."

"I will . . . if you dance with me."

Harry considered that for a moment, sorting out the pros and cons of the situation, giving into the ladder. "Fine."

Ginny grinned and took his arm, dragging him to the dance floor. He set his cup on the nearest table, and then turned to face Ginny. She was staring at him with that lustful look in her eyes again.

She grabbed his waist and guided him over to when Ron and Hermione were grinding on each other. Harry thought he was going to be sick and turned to leave, but Ginny wouldn't have it. She pulled him by his waist and started to grind up against him.

Her face dangerously close to his ear, she whispered, "You're going to have to at least act like you're enjoying this. Or else my dear brother will have to hear about your lustfulness towards his girlfriend."

Harry took a deep breath and started to meet her rhythm, grinding into her leg that was now present in-between his. Ginny smirked and made best of the situation, nibbling on his neck. He shivered, not liking the feel when her cold lips met his skin.

The song seemed to last a lifetime for Harry, but when it finally ended, he was more than happy to detangle himself from Ginny's clutches and make his way towards the punch bowl 

once again. When Harry arrived, though, he was surprised to see a familiar bunch of cinnamon-brown curls pouring a cup for herself.

She turned around to see Harry staring at her, "Hey Harry."

He gulped, the sight of her covered in sweat and a barely-there halter dress was enough to drive any sane man off the edge, "H-hey 'Mione."

"Having a good time?" she asked, as she brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip.

"Yeah." He lied, "you?"

"Semi." She said as she set the cup down and crossed her arms over her stomach, revealing the ample cleavage that had been hidden under her dress until now.

Harry's eyes immediately met hers and tried to stray from looking anywhere near her chest, "Semi?"

"Well . . . I haven't really been having the time of my life like I thought I would be."

"You seemed to be having a pretty good time on the dance floor." Harry replied coldly.

Hermione looked affronted, "I don't think that's any of your business."

"It seems like everyone's business, they way you were practically shagging out there."

"What me and Ron do is—"

"Private, I know." Harry interrupted. He lend closer to her and continued in just a above a whisper "But next time you two want to snog, or—Merlin forbid—shag, at least try to follow your own advice and keep it private."

With that said, Harry stalked out of the Great Hall, Hermione's voice attempting to call him back. No matter how much it hurt, he knew he did the right thing by telling her to lie off. Or, that's what he wanted to think.

Muttering the password, he entered the Head's dorm with a frown to his normally cheery face. He lay down on the couch and buried his face within his hands, enjoying the peace and quiet of the common room and the slight warmth of the fire next to him.

His silence was interrupted, however, by the slamming of the door. "Harry James Potter, what the bloody hell was that all about?" Hermione screamed.

His head quickly shot up, "You know bloody well what!"

She crossed her arms across her chest, making Harry gulp when she saw what that did to 

her cleavage again. "Actually, no I don't. Would you care to explain?"

He stood up, walking towards her. With each step he felt more and more nervous at the close proximity._ Damn_, he cursed himself, _trust Hermione to make me feel nervous in a time of complete tension_. "Let me see . . . you were practically shagging your boyfriend on the dance floor—"

"You already said that. And I already said that what we do in our free time is none of your business. You can judge all you want, but keep your derogatory comments to yourself!" she interrupted.

"Well how could I with you two flaunting like that?!"

Hermione remained silent.

"That's what I thought. You like the attention that flaunting brings. So that means . . . you don't like the actual things your doing . . . just the attention that it brings."

Hermione jaw dropped, and you could see the fire in her eyes. Harry was in for a long night. "What in Merlin's name gave you that idea?! I happen to be very happy with Ron; I wish I could say the same with you and Ginny . . ."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?!"

Hermione smirked, "Oh come off it. Everyone can tell that there is tension between you two. Even Ron can, for Merlin's sake."

"Well . . . let me quote one of my dear, dear, friends in saying that it is none of your business what me and Ginny do, or how our relationship is going."

"On the contrary, you make it my business by acting all depressed and introverted all of the time. You are my best friend Harry, I have to make it my business and ask what is wrong."

"You." Harry mumbled, looking at the floor.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, not hearing his incoherent whisper. "What?" she asked, lowering her voice noticeably.

Harry shook his head, "Nothing."

"Harry, what did you say?"

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow, "There you go again; acting like no one cares what you have to say and keeping it all to yourself. Well I for one want to hear."  


"I didn't say anything. Really."

"You're lying, I know you are."

It was Harry's turn to cock an eyebrow, "Oh. And why is that?"

"You have always been a bad liar. And I have always been a very observative person; observing how you mumbled something under your breath, and that you just lied cold turkey."

Harry took a deep breath, _should I really do this?_ he thought. "You."

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion again, this time not out of lack of volume in Harry's voice, but to just plain confusion. "What . . . me? What have I done?" she asked, raising her voice.

"Everything!"

"Everything?"

"YES!" he screamed,

Hermione's eyes shone with fire again, "And what is it that makes me so unbearable?!"

"You hair, your eyes, your lips, your everything!"

Hermione had tears staining her eyes and threatening to pour down, "Oh . . . I see. Well, I never thought I was much of a—a Ginny . . . or C-cho. But I also never thought that a guy like you would even care about that."

Harry's eye's widened as realization hit him, "No, 'Mione—"

"Harry . . . I get it. Someone like me doesn't deserve friends like you. At least I have R-ron; at least he doesn't care about how un-attractive I am." She turned to leave.

"'Mione . . . that's not what I meant at all." Harry said, seizing her gently by the arm.

She turned her face to him, his heart breaking when he saw the tears running freely down her face. "That what _d-do_ you mean?"

"Well . . . y-you see . . ."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "Well?"

Harry shook his head and looked at the ground. He couldn't put it into words. _You're _

_incredibly sexy and I dream about you all of the time_ didn't seem like the right thing to say. Finally he muttered, "Fuck it."

Hermione furrowed her brows yet again, "Harry wha—"

He did it. He finally did it. He kissed her. He . . . kissed . . . Hermione, and it was the most pleasurable experience of his life. His lips crashed on hers with such intensity, that Hermione almost fell over.

She knew this was wrong, but he felt so good. Her hands made their way up to his chest and started to push, but he wouldn't comply; he just wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. So, she gave into the kiss and moved her arms onto his neck and deepened the kiss in a way she had never done before . . . not even Ron.

Harry was just as surprised as she when she didn't pull away. But neither of them cared. Harry flicked his tongue and liked her bottom lip, asking for entrance, which she granted without hesitation. Hermione moaned into his lips, causing a chain reaction with him.

His hands made their way north, and started untying the tie of her halter dress. She made no sign of protest, so he pulled it down and inched it down her curves, gently caressing the newly exposed skin with every small tug. This caused Hermione to moan more and her hands made their way to his shirt and started to unbutton.

The dress fell to her ankles and she carefully stepped out of it and slid out of her heels. When her hands found the last button, she fount that a tie was present, so she loosened it and pulled it over his head, breaking the kiss for a moment. They didn't miss a beat, finding each other again, darting their tongues inside the others mouth within seconds of contact.

Harry shrugged his shirt off while Hermione's hands made their way to the fly of his trousers, passing over the obvious bulge. He winced in pleasure and Hermione smirked into the kiss. She started to caress it through the fabric, causing Harry's lips to leave her own and whisper (or rather, moan) in her ear, "'Mione."

His lips moved downward and started to plant kisses down her chin to her neck and suck the pressure point. Hermione moaned and tilted her head to the side for easier access. Her hands undid his belt and pants, dropping them to the floor. Now in only their underwear, Harry picked her up and carried her to his room, her legs wrapped around him.

When they reached his room, he gently laid her down on his bed and captured her lips with his yet again. Both of their hands roamed until Harry's hand made contact with her right breast and squeezes gently. Hermione moaned with pleasure, causing Harry's hands to leave and unhook her bra. She lifted her back as he pulled off the material.

He took the breast he was caressing earlier and suckled it with his mouth, causing her mo arch her back in pleasure. He repeated it with the other one, while she removed his boxers. He kicked them off and removed her knickers.  


They were skin on skin and Harry positioned himself atop of her. They looked in each other's eyes, giving each other the re-assurance they needed. He pressed in gently and found no barrier to stop him, no cry or wince of pain. What he did find was her moaning his name in his ear, "Harry . . ."

He took that as a signal to go, and pressed on and on, in and out until he was spent and drenched with sweat. He collapsed beside her and kissed her forehead. She curled up in his arms. A comfortable silence followed.

"How long?" Hermione's voice whispered.

"Too long." Harry replied, turning over and looking in her eyes, "what about you?"

"I don't really know." She said, looking down, "I suppose . . . I always knew that Ron would never be the one. But I forced myself to believe it."

"Why?"

"Because it was what was expected of me. To fall for Ron, get married to him and pop out a few kids." —Harry chuckled— "Part of me wanted it to happen, in order to please others and myself. But another part of me told me there was someone else out there . . . I never thought that someone would be you." Harry pretended to look affronted, causing Hermione to giggle, "But it wasn't until recently . . . that I discovered what I was missing with Ron."

"And what might that be?"

"Passion, lust, and actual . . . true love."

"You think you can find that with me?"

"You? This was just a fuck."

Harry looked pained for a moment, but after seeing the smile of Hermione's face he knew otherwise. "Very funny."

"So . . . have you been jealous all this time?" she asked, beginning to trace circles on one of his shoulder blades.

"Pretty much, yeah. There was always this . . . this red light surrounding the two of you. I could never look away, but it pained me _to_ look."

"So does this mean you don't think I'm ugly?"

"You are not ugly. You are the most beautiful person I know." He replied truthfully.

Though the darkness hid it well, he could see her blush, "Thank-you."

"You're welcome." He said, "Now, I think we should get some rest. I don't know about you, but I am spent."

Hermione chuckled lightly, "Me too."

After about twenty minutes, when Harry was on the brink of unconsciousness he heard Hermione's voice, "Harry?"

"Yeah?" he groggily replied.

"What are we going to tell them?"

He opened his eyes and stared into hers, "The truth."

"And what would that be?" she asked in a small voice, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

"We fucked. And it was amazing."


End file.
